Alliance
by I-AM-SiriusLOCKED
Summary: The story of the 60th annual Hunger Games. Denna Lazuli, the tribute of District One, is full of ideas and grand plans on how she can bring down the Capitol- plans that do not involve becoming victor. But what hope does one arrogant sixteen year old have against the relentless machine of the Games?
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER The Hunger Games and associated creations are the work of Suzanne Collins and Lionsgate. Any characters of theirs mentioned herein are not my property and used entirely for entertainment purposes. Denna and other original characters, though not copyrighted, are mine and any resemblance to others, fictional or real, are entirely coincidental.**

"I volunteer as tribute!"

Familiar words, here in District One. But nobody was expecting them to come out of my mouth- the quiet sixteen year old who hasn't even completed combat training. One dead parent. Fortunately, the pomp and ceremony that has arisen around volunteering means I have got in before anyone else can. A Peacekeeper, his uniform blinding in the sunlight, drags me out from the crowd by the arm. I wrench it out of his grasp and walk up to the podium, head held high so I can avoid catching anybody's eye, as I know they will all be glaring at me.

Good for them.

I climb up the steps to One's escort this year, a man with flowers tattooed on his frozen face.

"Ooh, a young one!" he says. He might be smiling at me, because his skin tautens slightly, but I can't be sure. "What's your name, child?"

"Denna Lazuli," I tell him. My voice echoes out around the square and comes back to me, sounding juvenile and frail.

"Well, Denna, if you go stand over there while I draw the other tribute." His voice is patronising, because I'm two years younger than the usual Career. He clearly doesn't think I'm going to last a day. I'm not entirely confident that I will, either. But I can't let the fear show.

I catch my reflection in one of the windows around the square. Tall, slim, with my mother's round face framed by long black hair, scraggly normally, let down for the special occasion of the reaping. Green eyes that are the norm in One. In any other district, I suppose I would be prized, but here I blend into the background- until now, that is.

I glance back at who are to be my mentors, and receive filthy looks. I have messed up their plans, for sure, and I smother a smile as I turn to face the front to watch my male counterpart- an eighteen year old called Gleam. I don't bother to remember his surname, and I doubt he will mine.

We perform the necessary handshake, and are immediately ushered into a car that will take us the short distance to the train station. As we drive, I have to remind myself why I volunteered, because everything has suddenly become very real.

_The Hunger Games are unfair. Careers are illegal, and yet carry on training because their bonds with the Capitol are so strong. I can't hope to take on the Capitol myself, so disturbing the Careers' alliances is the very least I can do._

I smile, grimly. Gleam is sitting opposite to me, staring out of the car window. I can see his face reflected in the glass, though, and he looks furious. It appears I have already made myself an enemy- I wonder how long he will wait before killing me in the arena.

The car pulls to a halt outside a silvery train carriage, and our mentors usher Gleam out, completely ignoring me. I climb out after him, and slip into the carriage before anybody can stop me. It's clear nobody wants me to win, so hopefully the most damaging thing my mentors can do is just ignore me. I don't think the Capitol would let them injure me before the Games actually begin.

The décor inside the cart is beautiful- I recognise the skilled hands of District One in the furniture, the artwork, and the ornaments. Exquisitely prepared food is laid out on the table, so I help myself to a mug of coffee and a hot bread roll before making my way to a squishy armchair in the corner, by the window. Landscape flies past, but I feel almost nothing save for a slight vibration. It was quite relaxing, and I could cheerfully ignore the glares coming from my co travellers.

As One disappears behind rolling scenery, my mind flies back to what is left of the family I left behind. My father will probably have gone back to work now, eager to earn money that will fuel his morphling addiction. Any love that we might have felt for each other died along with my mother, when I was seven. I can barely remember her.

Because my district is so close to the Capitol, it only takes us a few hours to reach the centre of Panem. As we prepare to dismount, I see our escort, the one who accepted my volunteering, give me a funny look. I would have described it as calculating, but he didn't look clever enough. Ignoring him, I walked quickly into the Training Centre.

District Twelve had arrived the same time as us. They both must have been a couple of years younger than me, but it looked more to that due to their shrunken, skeletal frames. Their dark Seam hair hung in lank clumps over their bony faces, and their gray eyes flitted around the lobby, obviously amazed.

Their mentor was nowhere near as impressed- but of course, he must be used to all the extravagance by now. Haymitch Abernathy had won ten years ago, during the Quarter Quell, when he was a little younger than I am now. He's only nine years older than me, but the gap seems larger when I see him snatch a bottle of whisky from a side table, and drink a sizeable amount of it in one. He's quite good looking, I have to admit, but the dark circles under his eyes and slightly yellow skin mark years of hard drinking. "Hurry up," he muttered to his tributes, casting a dark look around the lobby before hurrying them to the elevator. Their escort is nowhere to be seen. Before the doors of the elevator can close, I dart in after them, and press the 1 button.

"What are you doing in here?" barks Haymitch.

"The atmosphere is slightly warmer than if I were to be with my own district," I tell him. The girl tribute laughs weakly, and I smile at her quickly. On closer inspection, I think she might be the same age as me.

Haymitch glares at me, and I hold his gaze defiantly until the elevator halts and the doors slide open. "Thanks for the lift," I tell him, walking out.

"You're welcome," he calls after me, after a pause.

**A/N I'm uploading this fic I've had for a while, so I have quite a few chapters stored up, in place of Clever, the other one I'm currently updating. I hope to upload a chapter of this every month or so, alongside Clever, but there are no guarantees, especially when I run out of prewritten chapters. Please read and review, I'd love to know what you think!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N I know that, in a few months' time, when I've run out of reserve chapters and I'm up at two in the morning, crying, trying to think of something to write because I'm two weeks late with an update, I'm going to regret posting the second chapter of this so soon after the first. Eh. Read, review (pretty please), thank you if you did so already and I hope you enjoy!**

I weigh the knife in my hand, estimating its weight. Sinking into stance, I pull my arm back and throw the blade into the target across the room, nicking a District Two tribute on the ear. She turns to glare, but with the Gamemakers watching, that is all. I wave back at her, then wander off to the trap-setting area.

Both the tributes from Twelve and Eleven are here, skeletal fingers fumbling over the complex knots. I kneel down silently between the two girls, picking up a piece of leather cord.

"One of you lot had better show me how to do this," I tell them, brushing a shaft of dark hair from my eyes, "because I haven't got a clue."

The Twelve girl smiles at me, and deftly shows how to loop the string around a branch. "I don't suppose you learn how to do stuff like this, in One."

"Not really. But you do?"

"The knots, yes- for working in the mines. But not snares, because hunting is illegal."

"Of course it is." I glance up at the instructor, who is talking to the woman from the scavenging stand and not paying them any attention. "Except for when you're hunting people. What's your name?"

"Cossie," mumbles the girl, dropping the knot. "This is my cousin, Jed." She waves at the Twelve boy, who has her olive skin and gray eyes, who flashes me a grin.

"What about you two?" I ask Eleven.

"Ash," replies the surly-looking guy, who looks about my age. "Willow-" he jerks his head to a slim and dainty, dark-skinned girl curled up next to him, who looks as if one touch might snap her in two. She waves shyly.

None of them look properly fed, or even cared for at all. They have the weary, hardened look in their eyes that doesn't belong in those of people twice, three times their age, let alone their own. I may have been neglected back in One, but it is nothing compared to what they have suffered.

"My name is Denna," I tell them, finishing off the snare. "And I want to help you win."

Back in One's beautiful Training Centre apartment, our plastic mentors our announcing who want us as allies.

"Denna," the man says, turning to me with a curled lip. "Eleven and Twelve. Good luck with that." Gleam sniggers, and I raise my chin and ignore him. He appears to be heading the Career pack.

"Abernathy, Twelve's mentor, is waiting for you in the lobby to talk to you about this," the man continues. "He doesn't trust you. Does anybody?"

I stand up and walk out to the elevator, ignoring the people in the room I am leaving behind. The ride is smooth, and when the doors slide open, Haymitch Abernathy strides towards me, liquor sloshing over the rim of his bottle as he shoves me back inside and pushes the button for the roof. He is silent as we ascend, drinking moodily every now and then. I watch him, not daring to move or speak until the elevator opens again onto a beautiful rooftop garden with wind chimes tinkling in the wind.

"What the _hell,_" he demands, "do you think you're doing? You think those poor kids don't have enough to deal with, without you messing them around?"

"I'm not!" I reply calmly, defending myself for the first time since I got here. "They need this victory, their _Districts _need this victory, more than I do."

"And you'll die- you'll kill yourself- for that?"

"I can't remember the last time I cared what happens to me. But I do care that they have a chance, and I care that an outlying district winning again, with a One girl helping, will be a kick in the face to our new President Snow."

Abernathy glares at me for a minute, trying to figure out if I mean what I said. "Fine," he says shortly, "but self-preservation might be a good idea if you want to keep them alive as well, so try to give a damn about your own life at least until half the others are dead in the Arena."

I shrug. "That," I reply slowly, "was strangely motivating."

He laughs humourlessly. "Darling, you should see me when I try."

"So you'll let me be an ally with your tributes?"

"You're delusional if you think you all stand a chance, but sure, why not?"

"What about Eleven?"

"Chaff, their mentor, is an old friend. I'll talk him round."

I nod. "Thank you."

"Don't say that. Once you're in the Arena, you'll be putting your sorry ass first, just like everyone else."

"You don't know that."

"Don't I?" he raises an eyebrow. "How else do you think I won?"


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N short chapter, sorry. But hey, the Games begin in the next one! LET THE MURDER COMMENCE!**

I walk out of the elevator onto the roof, the night before the Games. My score in training was good- a ten. Gleam got eleven, as did the girl from Four, but apart from that I was the highest. Although it means I will get more sponsors, I am worried about my score; it has made me, and therefore my allies, a target.

It had been a long couple of days, ostracized by my own District, learning how to survive in a place without necessities, let alone luxury. Chaff, the Eleven mentor, was funny and light-hearted, bring some much-needed relief to my somber mood, but Abernathy had been bitter and surly, talking only when needed, usually finishing with some form of sarcastic comment. I still worry, though; every knot I learn is time I could be spent learning to defend myself, to win these Games.

_It's too late now_, I remind myself, walking to the railing and curling my fingers around the cool metal bar.

"Trouble sleeping?"

I jump, and spin round to see Abernathy standing by the door, arms folded. "You should've heard me," he says. "Always be aware of your surroundings."

"Thanks for the tip," I mutter, turning back to look over the Capitol skyline. He stands beside me. "And do you really expect me to sleep tonight?"

"You'll need it if you want to survive past the first bloodbath in the arena tomor-"

"Alright!" I fling my arms into the air. "Fine! Stop talking about it!"

He raises an eyebrow. "Talking about what?"

I glare at him. "Shut up." He laughs at me, and I can't help but smile. "You know, I'm actually starting to have second thoughts about this suicide mission."

"Oh really?" I go to punch him on the shoulder, but he twists out of the way. Clearly the drink hasn't dulled his reflexes completely- yet. "Be careful in there, Lazuli."

"That was the plan."

"Yeah, but if your allies do die before you, don't throw your life away because of it."

"Why? It's not like I have anything left to live for."

"Don't," he says sharply. "I want you out of there alive as much as I do my own tributes."

"Why? What the hell do I mean to you?" I ask, voice rising. He stays silent, and the anger slowly flows away. "Sorry," I murmur.

"Don't be." He wraps his arms around me and I lean my head on his shoulder. He must have just showered; he smells faintly of roses, instead of the acrid sting of white liquor.

"Don't mess this up, girl," he whispers in my ear.


	4. Chapter 4

My mind is racing at many times its normal speed as I rise through the tube into the harsh sunlight of the Arena. My clothes intrigue me; loose, grey, with hard protective covering for my hands, knees and elbows. The boots are tough, but too new to be comfortable- I roll my toes around in them, trying to mould them to my feet. Then my eyeline breaks the surface, and I am momentarily blinded before my eyes adjust to the unfiltered white glow.

_Mountain_, is my first thought, as I stare up at the sheer wall of rock, its grey stone broken up by hardy tufts of grass. Then I realise, despite its impressive height, it's not tall enough to be a mountain; a few hundred feet high, it eventually plateaus onto a wide horizontal peak, almost the same size as its base. The peak is like Eden in this tiny arena; it has bushes, shady trees and in the center, a shimmering Cornucopia.

_This is good news_, I tell myself. Once I've got some supplies, I can make sure my allies are well hidden in one of the many caves I can see on the cliff face. I glance to my left; luckily, Cossie from Twelve is there, with Ash to my right. With our first stationary moment ticking down as we stand on our platforms, I nod to them. They return the gesture, showing they remember the plan.

A cannon blasts and suddenly everyone is off, most (including Ash, the Careers and myself) running to the cliff, and beginning to scramble up it, rock crumbling away at our fingers. Cossie, meanwhile, runs to fetch Jed and Willow, taking them to the most hidden place she can find along the base of the cliff.

My muscles strain as I pull myself up ledges and outcrops, but it is not too difficult- I've been training for this for over ten years. It's lucky that Ash has spent his whole life climbing up trees, too- we are fast and agile, finding a route without too many false steps and reaching the top just behind a boy from District Three. He turns to grab his female counterpart, their grazed fingers linking, but they are both slick with sweat and the girl plummets backwards with a scream. I grit my teeth and try to ignore the sounds of bone cracking against rock.

We both run past the boy and grab what Abernathy told us to- not food in itself, but things to help us find it. String and rope, matches, hooks of varying sizes, iodine for purifying water- Ash grabs a crossbow, commonly used in Eleven for bringing down groosling, while I go for a pair of wicked looking daggers and a couple of serrated hunting knives. I seize weapons for the others, too- a couple of scimitars and a long-handled something I recognise vaguely for being used in coal mines. There's some apples and dried beef in front of me- I grab them and tie the bags to the belt around my waist, which is when I feel someone breathing down my neck.

I turn without thinking, my muscle memory doing it for me, grab one of the daggers and ram it through their cheek. The Two girl tries to yell out, but chokes on her own blood as I pull the knife out, leaving a jagged hole in the side of her face. She pulls a sword out of her belt and swipes it round, but I duck down and punch the side of her knee and she falls to the floor. Her sword swings again and opens up my calf; I swear and pin her hand to the ground with my knife, leave her there and run to Ash, who has just sent a crossbow bolt through the midriff of the boy from Four. I worry about the knife I left behind, but remind myself I have another spare, and the daggers designed for combat. And at least the girl is still alive- I am not yet a killer- and has been put out of fighting for at least a few days.

"Ready?" asks Ash, breathing heavily and loading another crossbow bolt. I nod. "Good. Duck."

It's a good thing I trust him- as I plung to the floor the arrow whistles over my head and lands with a sickening squelch in someone behind me. I roll over to see who it was- the Eight boy lies motionless and open-mouthed on the grass, a feathery shaft sticking out of his eye.

"Quick," I tell Ash, "before the other Careers notice us."

"You don't want to claim here?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

"And fight the rest of One, Two and Four for it? Not likely."

I swing myself over the edge of the cliff face and drop onto a greenish ledge ten feet below, rolling to minimize the jarring impact. Ash lands beside me and we continue this all the way down, silently so as to avoid any other tributes.

We walk- well, I limp- along the base of the cliff, until we find Willow, Cossie and Jed sat in the shadow of a large boulder.

"Happy birthday," I tell them, as Ash and I throw down the food, supplies and other weapons. "Any of you know first aid?" I can feel blood trickling down my skin, and know it is only a matter of time before my leg gives way. I sit on the floor, to save the embarrassment of collapsing, and Cossie grabs some bandages from a pack Ash grabs and starts unrolling them.

"It looks clean," she tells me, "I'll just compress it until we get somewhere safer."

We all pause as the first cannonfire rings through the sky. It's followed by another, then another, then more- I count nine in all. Almost half of us, just fifteen left. There's a moment of chilling silence; none of us know what to say for a moment.

"Speaking of safety," Jed chips in, breaking the silence as he leans against the boulder casually like for all the world he was on some kind of vacation, "where are we setting up camp?"

"We'll walk until it starts getting dark around this cliff, then get into the first cave we can find." And that's what we did. I never intended to become the leader of this Alliance, but they all follow my judgement without comment, and so we traipse along the towering rock wall, filling some bottles with water from a tiny trickling waterfall and nibbling on dried beef to keep our energy levels high. As the clear blue sky melts into a dusky orange, we halt and stare at the wall.

"How high up are we going?" asks Willow, almost too quietly to be heard. Her voice is shaking slightly, and Ash wraps his arm around her protectively.

"Don't worry little girl, not too high," he reassures her, while glancing over at me. I nod, but something about this confuses me.

"You're afraid of heights?" I ask Willow. "Don't you work in orchard trees?"

"Not heights," she mumbles, looking up, "them."

I can see the familiar silhouette of Gleam standing at the edge of the peak, which I've started thinking of as Eden. He cuts an impressive figure- I'm used to, even tired of it, but I can understand it scaring the timid Eleven girl. After all, he's our biggest threat.

_Why don't I care? _I wonder.

"There's a cave there," I announce, pointing up to a fissure in the rock wall, about twenty feet up. You can only see it from this angle, but it looks ideal- a small flat area of grass to one side, and another waterfall to the other, like a glistening snail trail.

Ash, the strongest, climbs up first- he takes the rope with him and ties it to a stone, making sure its securely attached, before throwing a looped end down to us. I let the others go up first, then tie myself into the harness and start to climb, bad leg shaking madly. Before I manage to get even a foot off the ground, however, I feel the rope being yanked up as I am pulled to our new base.

"What was that for?" I ask, scrambling into the cave. Cossie immediately runs over with some medical stuff, untying my bandage to check the cut.

"Figured we owe you," shrugged Ash. Jed rolled his granite-coloured eyes.

"_You _didn't figure. I did. Clearly I'm gonna have to be the brains of this little team, while you supply the brawn."

"I can't help but laugh. "What does that make the rest of us, then?"

"Medic," he waves at Cossie as she smears stinging yellow paste on my wound, "Supplies-" he indicates to Willow in the corner, who is arranging our rations and equipment into piles, and counting through it. He looks at me, thinks for a moment and says- "Special Ops. You can go and do the stuff nobody else wants to. Or is that dogsbody?"

"Thanks," I reply dryly, as Willow giggles. Suddenly, the Panem anthem echoes from outside, and we all shift to the cave entrance to look up at the shimmering hologram handing in the twilit sky.

The first is the girl I saw plummet to her death, followed by her fellow District Three tribute, and the boy from Four who Ash skewered with his crossbow. That means all but one of the Careers are alive, and presumably settling down in Eden, with the majority of supplies and the best camp. As I think this, more people flash up- both from Five, the Six girl, the boy and girl from Eight (the latter of which had been another victim of Ash's deadly aim), and the boy from Nine. No eulogies, no mourning- just their picture, taken by the Capitol. I can feel a familiar anger bubbling up inside me, but choose to ignore it. "All present and correct?"

They all nod, except for Jed, who salutes mockingly.

"Good." I flex my calf muscles, feel them tauten under my new bandage. "Sleep. Tomorrow we hunt."

"Shouldn't one of us keep watch?" Ash asks me, slowly.

"Oh, right," I run my hand through my hair, dislodging it from my ponytail. "Shall I-"

"Sleep, girlie," the dark-skinned Eleven tribute tells me, shifting to sit at the entrance of the cave. "I'll wake you after midnight, when you've had some sleep."

"How will you tell the time?" I ask him. He rolls his eyes.

"Stars, moron," he replies. I look at him blankly. "Wow, you really have no clue. Remind me to teach you someday." He turns to look outwards, leaning against the wall, silent and unmoving. I consider him for a minute, then lie down, falling asleep almost immediately.


	5. Chapter 5

It's about half an hour after dawn breaks that Jed stirs, the first to do so. He comes to sit next to me.

"What's the plan for today then, Dogsbody?" he asks.

I roll my eyes at the new nickname. "Hunt."

On our walk to camp yesterday, we had seen a flock of groosling flying overhead, as well as a couple of skinny-looking goats hopping across the cliff. I've decided we'd be better off going for the former, since Ash and Willow know how to hunt them, and the meat on a goat apparently isn't very good.

"Eleven can pair up and go shoot down some groosling," I tell him. "I'll go forage with you and Cossie, set up some snares along the bushes."

"Do you actually know _how _to make a snare?"

"I have… a vague idea," I reply, hazily recalling what I had learnt in the arena. "Besides, there has to be berries or something."

"As long as they're not poisonous."

"Optimism is key here, Twelve," I tell him, and his laugh wakes up the others.

We split up after a hearty breakfast of apples and more apples, heading opposite ways along the base of the cliff after agreeing not to lose sight of base camp. I hold one of my daggers loosely in my hand- just a precaution, as I keep Jed and Cossie in front of me, reminding them every so often to keep their voices down. The other dagger is strapped to my bag and the hunting knife is stuck in my belt. Cossie is the first to find something- a bush with boughs bent from the weight of its raspberries. We fill a bag with them and gorge ourselves, before searching the ground floor for dry wood. It got cool last night, too cool for comfort, and Ash and I had forgotten to grab sleeping bags. Instead, everyone had huddled together in the centre of the cave, a twisted mass of shared body warmth. As much of a bonding experience that was, a fire would be good to have, as well as allowing us to cook whatever groosling Ash and Willow catch.

We've all got armfuls of tinder when I first hear the voices, loud, clear and laughing. There's only one group of people who could be that happy in the Arena, and my heart stops.

"Careers!" I whisper to Twelve, and drag them into the shadow of the trees that fringe this part of the cliff bottom.

Gleam walks first, with a wicked looking blade strapped to his back. He saunters around the area we had just been, arms opened wide. He's followed by the boy from Two, who is tall and lanky with an attractive face marred by what appears to be a permanent scowl. The Two girl surprises me by her presence- she has a bandage wrapped around her entire lower face, covering her mouth, which she doesn't look very happy about. I can't deny, this amuses me somewhat. The pretty, sandy-haired Four girl takes up the rear, muscles standing out in her arms as she drags something I can't quite see. Then Cossie's hand grips mine as she drags it into view- a bloody tribute, groaning slightly as blood pours out of a gash across his stomach, opening up his intestines for the world to see.

"What do you suggest we do with him, Gleam?" asks Four, dropping the boy's leg and walking up to him, their bodies just brushing up against each other. I have a sneaking suspicion of what _they _did to keep warm last night.

Gleam looks around, shoulders pushed back to show his muscle, a fine specimen of a tribute, everything the Capitol would love. I can practically feel the cameras on him- and us, cowering in the shrubs.

"Leave him here," Gleam decides, as the two from Two walk in a circle around them, like well-trained attack dogs. "He'll make a good warning."

"Aren't we going to kill him first?" asks the Two boy.

"No. He'll bleed out eventually. Besides," he presses his foot above the boy's wound, and he screams out, chilling my blood, "I want him to suffer. Make him pay for trying to steal from us. Come on, we've left Nine in charge of camp and I don't trust her." Gleam and Four walk away laughing, with the Twos on their heels. We wait, frozen in silence, until they disappear back towards Eden.

"Denna!"

"Hm?" I realize Cossie is tugging at my arm.

"We- we can't leave him like that." She's white as a sheet, and trembling. I glance over to Jed, who looks like he is going to throw up. I guess I'll be alone on this one.

I walk out into the open, towards the boy, who is still whimpering softly. Close to, I recognise him as the thin-faced boy from Six. Carter, I think his name is. I kneel down in the red-stained grass, the blood seeping into the legs of my trousers.

"Hey," I say, scared to touch him. "It- it's okay. I'm not going to hurt you." I make the mistake at glancing at his open stomach and feel the bile rise in my throat. I can smell acrid metal and something else, vaguely putrid.

"Please," he whispers, through gritted teeth. "Please." He raises a finger, manages to point at the dagger I'd forgotten I had gripped in my hand. I swallow.

"Okay."

I try to think- where would it be fastest. Through the temple, of course, but I can't quite bring myself to do that. I remember Abernathy had a similar wound to this in the finale of his Games, and wonder how he possibly managed to outlive his opponent.

I settle on the heart, resting the tip of my dagger in the middle-left of his chest, between two ribs. "Ready?" I ask him. He close his eyes and nods, and I push the knife downwards. It takes less effort than I expect, slowing down as it reaches the muscle I am aiming for and then puncturing all the way through, burying itself in the dirt through his thin body. He sighs slightly, and his body relaxes as I hear a cannon go off overhead.

"We got some!" declares Willow triumphantly, holding up a groosling in each hand. Ash strolls behind her, crossbow and a tied to his back. The girl freezes when she sees my bloody hands and knees.

"What _happened _to you?" she cries out. I shrug, not trusting my voice. I cannot let myself break down in front of her, this thirteen year old girl, who has placed her faith in me.

"We're fine," says Jed, stepping forward. "The careers dumped a half dead tribute in front of us without actually noticing we were there. How do they expect to kill the rest of us if they can't even find us?" Cossie smiles humourlessly.

"We got berries and wood," she tells them, "it's, what, three in the afternoon? We should get back." We start walking. I am on autopilot, thinking of the blood on my hands. I imagine it running up my arms, into my mouth, choking me, clouding over my eyes until everything is crimson.

"Denna." We are at the wall. Ash, taking pity on me, gives me a leg up for the tricky first part of the climb and I drag myself back to the now enough to make it the rest of the way. I offer to take first watch, dangling my legs in the waterfall and watching the blood wash away as the others pluck, slice and start cooking the grooslings. I catch a glint of silver floating towards me, and stand up excitedly.

"Parachute!" I call back to the others. To receive a gift from sponsors this early, and for such a motley group of tributes, is highly unusual. I wonder what we have done to catch their attention, and how well Haymitch and Chaff sold us- I'm pretty sure it had nothing to do with my own mentor.

The package is big- the bag alone will be useful. I pull it open as the others come over to reveal rolls of black, synthetic material.

"Sleeping bags!" exclaims Jed, unrolling one and throwing it around Willow's shoulders, who was already shivering. "You're lucky you've got us to look after you," he tells her.

"Shut it," Ash tells him.

"Hey!" Cossie cuts in. "We shouldn't be arguing. Look what we've just been sent, we should be happy."

I nod in agreement as everyone takes a roll from my lap- there is one for each of us. This gift would have been expensive, so we must have at least a few supporters.

"Not too bad, Abernathy," I say to the sky, as dusk falls and the anthem begins to play.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N Guess who wrote four more 2,000-odd word chapters of this over the weekend instead of revising for exams? You know what that means? BONUS CHAPTER! I hope you enjoy this. I mean, it's not particularly happy or anything, but still. Please do leave me a review, I'll try to make sure I reply to them!**

The next few days find the five of us settling into the routine; wake, eat last night's leftovers, wash in the waterfall and fill our bottles, split up to hunt, come back, make a fire, cook and eat, storytime, sleep. The second to last is my favourite time- I'm fascinated by how the other tributes live, how Twelve is much more lax in law enforcement than Eleven, but with far fewer supplies and facilities. I learn about constellations, what types of fruit are safe to eat, how to set up a climbing rig, and so on. In turn, I tell them about One, and the the beautiful things we see but cannot own- perfumes, furniture, the district's men and women who are taken to the Capitol and have their "company" sold. These conversations carry on until the anthem begins- two more dead on our third night, another on the fourth, bringing the total up to twelve, so half of us are gone. It's Gleam, both from Two, Four girl, me, and all of them from Ten, Eleven and Twelve. We don't encounter the Careers again, neither do we find the tributes from Ten and Four, although the traces we find while out hunting leads me to believe they are somehow managing to survive separately. It is now our seventh night- nothing particularly eventful has happened in the last couple of days, which is ominous.

"I'm bored," announces Jed. Ash is on watch, while I teach Willow and Cossie how to weave patterned bracelets as we were taught to in One, out of long grass strands. I glance over at him.

"Seriously?" I ask. "We're stuck in an arena, being forced to fight to the death, and you're bored?"

"_Exactly_," he replies, shuffling towards me and taking me by the shoulders. "Nothing's happening. Let's go spy on the Careers or something, Dogsbody."

I stare at him doubtfully. I don't want to get them into danger, but if we stay here much longer, it is likely to find us. "Fine," I say, "anyone else coming?"

The others shake their heads, so I gather up my blades and some rope and follow Jed out of the cave mouth. We pick our way along the cliff face in silence for a couple of minutes before he speaks.

"Which of us do you want to win?" he asks suddenly, stopping in his tracks. I stare at his back.

"What?"

He turns to face me, squinting in the dusky gloom. "I mean, sooner or later, you're going to have to choose. You know that right?"

I narrow my eyes. "Of course I do. Come on." I brush past him, but he catches my arm and spins me round.

"You can't keep avoiding it, One. So who's it going to be? One of the girls? They won't last five minutes without you. You're better off choosing me or Ash." There's something in his eye I haven't seen before, something I cannot place.

"Jed," I say, slowly, cautiously, "I don't want to talk about it."

"Well you're going to!" He yells, and for the first time, I feel scared of my ally. He purses his lips and breathes deeply before continuing. "Ash… he's big. Powerful. He'll survive on his own. But nobody likes him, he'll never get any sponsors."

"Jed, stop it."

He laughs. "Stop what? We're only talking, Dogsbody." He leans lazily against the rock, pulls me into him. I can feel his heartbeat through the layers of clothes and skin. "What say we sneak off, you and me? Less competition, and you can still keep your promise to Haymitch."

"No!" I wrench myself out of his grasp. "It wouldn't be right, and you know it!"

He spits, cocks his head to the side. I recognise the glint in his eye now, and it is madness. Oh, Jed. Out of everyone in this forsaken Arena, why did it have to be you? "We're fighting to the death, One. There's no right about it." He lunges towards me and I duck, running under his arms and slamming into the cliff face, grazing my palms and knees. He teeters on the edge of the precipice for a moment, then regains his balance and turns back towards me, snarling. I think I can take him- he's slightly larger than I am, but I'm better fed, stronger. Still. Evasive tactics for now.

"Jed," I say, holding my hands out in front of me, "you don't have to do this. Let's- please, let's just go back to the cave."

"No!" he screams, voice echoing around us. I hope the Careers can't hear, but they undoubtedly can. "I can't! I can never go back!" Saliva runs in strings from his lips, flecks of it flying as he speaks. "Don't you understand? They have to die!"

"No, Jed," I reply. "No, they don't." As I speak, I slowly take my knife and sever the rope anchoring Jed to the surface.

I know there's no hope for him, I know I can't save him now. But that doesn't make what I do next any easier. I launch myself forward, forcing my shoulder deep into his chest, and his arms are flailing defenselessly as he plummets, and lands with a sickening crunch. My own rope yanks me back as I'm halfway over the edge so that I land with my upper half dangling down, forced to stare at the bloody, open eyed body below me. His expression is of surprise. I'm shaking, I realize, as I pull myself up and away from the edge- not with fear, but with adrenaline. I have just saved the others.

_At the price of one of them._

"Shut up," I mutter to myself, as the cannon fires. I hope I'm not going mad too.

Before I can worry about it anymore, I hear a familiar scuffle of a footstep on loose rock behind me. I spin round, my senses heightened from the moment of danger, both daggers raised. Almost before I have time to think, the boy from Ten launches himself towards me.

"Murderer!" he shrieks, is eyes bloodshot and bulbous. "Murderer!" His scrawny fingers wrap themselves around my neck, squeezing and squeezing. "Murderer!" We fall to the floor. "Murd-" he is choking on his own blood as my dagger drives its way through the hollow at the base of his neck. I feel red splash onto my face, hot and wet. Disgusted, I roll out from under him and slide my blade from his neck. He coughs once or twice, feebly, then moves no more. The cannon fires, the second time in less than a minute. Both times, because of me.

I start to move, quickly, before the hovercraft and Careers arrive. My limbs feel old, and heavy, but I try not to look too affected, as I know the cameras are watching. By the time I reach our home supply of water, the adrenaline has worn off completely, and I want to lie in my sleeping bag and close my eyes and not open them again until I am out of this forsaken arena. But I force myself to wash the blood off my face and hands, while wondering what Haymitch, what the sponsors, the people back at One and Jed's family in Twelve will make of this. And the Ten boy, who I killed because he spoke the truth too soon, while it was still raw. He should still be alive, I know it.

I walk into the cave just as the anthem starts to play, and the pictures of those dead by my hand flash into the sky, their eyes watching me as I explain slowly, dully, what happened, to my allies.


End file.
